#i'm excited to see what baby will look like !

[arminsumi]

... hubby!Gojo with a huge breeding kink who just obsesses over you when you're ovulating and can't think about anything else but fucking a baby into your hips.

+ warnings; mdni, breeding kink, some dumbification

+ an; I literally had this idea in my drafts for a year... 😳

Maybe he's got a freaky sixth sense, maybe it's just because he's got heightened senses, or maybe there's some scientific studies to back it up; but Gojo can smell when you're ovulating. And it turns him on — of course it does. He has a bigger breeding kink than you do.

"Oh, you're ovulating." he notes after sniffing your skin... and you do a double take like he's insane. Because he is insane — you married a madman.

He pays closer attention to your cycle than you do, reminding you to mark down when you get your period, and coddling you in the days leading up to ovulation.

"Satoru, it's just an estimation." you tell him, but he's got a glow in his eyes when he sees your period tracker app telling him that today's your most fertile day — if he cums in you today, it's basically guaranteed.

He researches positions that help conception, bends and pushes you into them, and fucks you deep with his thick cock, going harder on your poor hole than he normally does — grunting more than he normally does, throbbing more than he normally does... like it just awakens something primal in him, and now he's obsessively fucking you like he has no other purpose but to breed his sweet little wife.

"Nn! Satoruuu!" you whine and paw at his torso, your walls overwhelmed by the pressure of his cock splitting you open.

"Yes babyyy?" he coos, giving you a crooked, blissed-out smile as he tilts his head.

There's sweat dripping off his abs, his pink nipples are hard, his biceps are twitching, and he's running one hand through his dampened white hair as he stills inside you for a moment.

"'s too deep! T-too big!" you moan lewdly, a bit of drool escaping the corner of your mouth.

"...aw, I know I'm just too big for ya, huh?" he coos cockily; hearing you tell him that he's 'too big' never gets old.

He's so determined to give you his baby that he tries everything to increase the chances; staying inside you for 5 minutes after shooting his load in, having you rest with a pillow under your back so your hips are raised — "Gotta help my lil' guys swim." he acts like an idiot about it, but sweetly so. Nothing excites him more than the idea of being a dad, except the idea of fathering your children.

After sex, when the two of you are cleaning up, Satoru feels over and massages your tummy with a small smile on his face. He's lost in thought, hair all messy and face tired like he's run a marathon, hopeful that this time he got you pregnant.

He'll pamper you like his queen, humming and going to the ends of the earth to get you anything you ask for. He really fawns over you when you're ovulating, and lays on the compliments thick while snuggling your neck and creeping his fingers up your thighs — pretty soon he'll sink them inside and stretch you out on them, preparing you for what he cutely calls "baby making" but is actually sweaty, nasty, kinky sex — there's a definite difference in the cute, snuggly sex and the literal breeding sessions no matter how much he plays it off.

"Satoru... my legs are still weak after this morning, give me a break, will you?"

"Aw come on, this is an innocent request... and if babymaking happens, it happens..." he mutters the last part under his breath.

"You're crazy."

But you know you're gonna fall for it after you take one look at his rock-hard, juicy pink, dummy big cock and those breeder balls.

He just beams victoriously when you hop over to him like a little bunny.

Satoru's pushes into you as deep as your pussy allows him, and then some more just to pressure your deepest spot, pinning your wrists down and whispering sultrily into your ear about how well you take him, how beautiful you look, how good it feels to fuck your fertile pussy knowing that he'll most definitely get you pregnant because his cum is perfect; thick and sticky and gooey and pungent, perfect just like he is — the cocky bastard.

When his creampies makes you cum, A-spot pressured with his pulsing tip, he grins so wide that you scold him about it.

"Stop grinning like a psychopath." you pant.

He just looks up at you, face hardly an inch away, and asks a dumb, smiley "D'you feel pregnant?" ... as if it happens so fast.

"Gee, I don't know, we should go again just to make sure — that was a joke, that was a joke! Nn! Satoru!" too late, he's flipping you over and slowly filling you up again.

And oh god Satoru loves sliding back in for round twos. The smell of sex and cum wafting up and hitting his nose just makes him plunge back into your cum-filled little hole with only one thing in mind and that is breeding you 'till you're stuffed to the max.

"Come on, y' gonna be a good wifey for me and get knocked up?" he rasps against your ear, thrusting his cock up into your sensitive spots until his creampies turn into whipped cream, frothed up and milky-white and smeared on your pussy lips.

Like the nasty boy he is (and always has been, even before marriage), Satoru forces your head down and makes you watch him fuck his dummy big cock into you.

"Yeah, watch that cock fill you up... look at all my cum leaking out..." he tuts, "... don't be so wasteful, baby... oh well, 'm gonna fuck it back into you anyways. Come on, let me in deeper — aw, what's wrong?" he coos when you claw at his meaty bicep.

"'toruuu, so deep! Y-you're so fucking deep, I can't think..."

His heart pangs when he hears you complain about being too stuffed, "Oh baby you don't need to think, just lay there and let me put a baby in your sweet pussy — gonna fuck you so dumb, the only name you'll remember is mine."

Of course, he has to get a creampie in every day. Sometimes even a few times a day. Sometimes even at 4 AM, and you swat him for being a horny idiot — but it takes five minutes to give in because you can hear the need in his voice when he whines "Please?" and starts humping against you, "I've got so much cum for you." he tells you and though it sounds so sweet in his soft, bedroom voice it's hard to take him as an innocent man, because his thick boner is grinding hard and hot between your plush lips.

You can bet you'll probably only get to sleep when the birds are chirping, 'cause your hubby's balls are too heavy and full of cum and he needs to drain himself inside you — oh, and you can also bet that afterwards he will be sleeping like a princess, clinging to you with his face snuggled into your tummy.

[monzamash]

★ last chance; long live the inbox graveyard! —i pick a long forgotten request in my inbox and write a short blurb or musings

hot tub time machine lando norris x you —no warnings, just fluff "could we get a number 14 (pool/hot tub sex) with lando pleaseeee? so excited that you’re writing again!!" —requested by anon on october 8th, 2024

“happy birthday, sweetheart...”

“i really needed this," he sighed, "knowing i would be home with you for this was the only thing getting me through the last few of weeks.”

lando could feel every single ache and pain wash away as he slid into the hot tub, stomach full of the gorgeous italian spread you’d ordered for dinner. his favourite. he swore you were an angel sent to earth, everything you did for him was heavenly, he could never find the words to tell you how much he loved you.

“you look so happy lan,” you smiled, dropping the kimono you’d worn during dinner as lando’s eyes cast across your body, luring you into the tub.

“i’m very happy - especially when i get to enjoy all of this… c’mere pretty girl.”

a soft giggle slipped from your lips as you grasped his hand, "let me get a bottle of red wine for us to share and i'll join you — do you wanna open the one daniel gave you?"

"ooo, are we entering that portion of the night?" lando asked suggestively as you stood up, shooting him quizzical look.

"what do you mean?" you asked earning a loud laugh from the tub, water splashing a little as lando pulled himself up to the edge, smiling over at you with a look you knew all too well.

"as soon as you start on the red wine, you get so frisky," he stated as if it was a well-known fact, one that you certainly weren't aware of.

"i do not!" you staunchly defended, earning another loud scoff.

"oh, wow," lando laughed, "yes, you do baby and i'm not complaining so crack her open..." he teased as you carefully stepped into the tub, with lando's help of course, eyes still narrowed in annoyance.

"okay so maybe wine makes me a little more amorous than usual but i think i'm just like that when i drink, no?" you pouted, earning yourself a pity kiss from the birthday boy.

"red wine makes you horny and that's okay," he teased again with a cheeky smirk on his face as you handed him the stemmed glass, "ta."

"we'll see then, won't we," you tutted, pouring two glasses of wine while lando chuckled to himself.

"i already know what's gonna happen but sure," he baited with a wink as he slowly dunked his head under the water and emerged with a shake of his wild curls, sending water flying across the room and all over you.

"you are so sure of yourself tonight."

lando's eyes skimmed across your body briefly while you claw-clipped your hair up, not wanting the hassle of having to dry it before going to bed. secretly you knew where the night was headed, red wine or not— it was his birthday after all, but you weren't about to admit that to the man hypnotised by your every move, jaw slack from the glorious view of your cleavage.

lando was a simple man.

"well, i am the birthday boy after all so i reserve the right to be cocky once a year, yeah?" he taunted from the other side of the tub.

"yeah, only once a year..." you rolled your eyes humorously.

the distance between the two of you seemed too far for lando, so he sculled the rest of his drink and carefully placed the glass on the floor before giving you a mischievous smile.

"steady on, party boy," you chuckled as he leaned forward and snaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm hold.

"i just want to focus all of my attention on you," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your clip, his emerald irises darted over your face, finally resting on yours.

"i missed you a lot, you know."

you took that as an invitation to straddle his lap and rest your elbows over his shoulders, wine glass dangling from your fingers. lando smoothed his hands down your back and and pressed fiery kisses across your chest. his lips travelled back up your neck, along your jaw before finding your soft lips in a slow, passionate kiss. you moved in sync with him, bringing one of your hands up to trawl through his wet, tangled curls. the chlorine always got the best of them.

lando hummed quietly into the kiss before pulling back slightly, "this is the best birthday i've ever had... and i couldn't be more in love with you," he confessed as you took the chance to admire the sweet boy you'd chosen to share your life with.

you grasped his face gently between your hands and pressed another soft kiss to his lips, making sure he knew just how much you loved him, no matter what life threw your way.

"i love you too, darling... happy birthday."

a/n — the first of the end of (f1) season sale!! this hot tub request actually wasn't forgotten, just half-baked so thank you anon for sparking up the inspiration to finally finish it! hope you enjoyed it 😌

[taesansbeloved]

I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU. (엔하이펜)

synopsis: doing skincare/cozy stuff with bf!enhypen warnings 🚨 tooth rotting fluff, skinship, petnames, and kissing.

(Hyung line)

Nova notes: HIHI ❣️ this was based on this request. I will probably do a whole one for Ni-ki later, and also probably Heeseung because I cannot resist writing fluff for this man. Maknae line here.

Heeseung (희승)

You were sat on the bathroom counter with Heeseung in between your legs, hands on your thigh, rubbing up and down gently, watching you with heart eyes while you apply moisturiser on his face. "Stop looking at me like that." You said shyly, his gaze making your face heat up. "Why? You're pretty." He stated, his gaze not wavering from your ethereal face. Your smile widens as you feel Heesueng leaning closer to your touch. "Everyday I'm shocked that you're my girlfriend, because omg, you're fucking gorgeous." He whispered, relishing in the feeling of your warm hand. You roll eyes, trying to hide your flustered face, but that's impossible when he is looking at you like THAT. He chuckles slightly and turns his head, kissing your palm lovingly.

Jay (정성)

You were having a tough week as it was midterms season. Constant studying, endless stressing, and a ruined sleep schedule that had Jay ruining his aswell. Jay knew that one of the ways to help you ease the stress, besides his cooking, is simply taking care of you. "Baby, I'm fine really. I just need to sleep." You said as Jay placed you on the bathroom counter and stood in between your legs, having your entire night care routine out beside you. "Yeah, and you also need some me love. So I'm giving you some." He said softly as he picked up the cleanser. He gently wet your face with a damp towel and began rubbing the cleanser all over your. You can feel your eyes getting heavier with every warm touch against your skin. Jay chuckled as he took in your drowsy figure, feeling his heart warm up with an overwhelming amount of love. "I hate seeing you this stressed, baby, you know that?" He said softly as he was caressing your face tenderly. "Blame the school system." You said, voice low with sleep and exhaustion. Jay sighed as he walked you to the he'd and completed your skincare while your sleeping soundly on the bed. "Sleep well, princess."

Jake (재윤)

You and him were sat opposite to eachother on your shared bed with a variety of different colors of nail polish. "Okay, so, what color do you want, baby?" Jake asked, assessing each color individually. "I don't really know. You choose for me." You said with a cheeky smile. Jake smiled, looking up at you with eyes full of stars. "Oh, I've been waiting for this day. Okay, I will not disappoint you." He paused then gasped again, "Should I make you a design?" He asked with huge puppy eyes. You nodded, sharing the same enthusiasm. He picked up the baby pink and the pearly white nail polish and began painting your nails while talking with you about everything and nothing. After an hour or so, Jake finished with an excited clap. "Okay, I put my heart, sweat, and tears into this. I hope you like it." He said as you brought your hands up to see his masterpiece. Eyes lighting up with adoration, "omg, jake I love this! I will never take it off." You said, throwing your arms around him and peppering kisses all over his face. His and your giggles filled the room, love swirling in the dim room.

Sunghoon (성훈)

"What's that for?" That was the question Sunghoon has been asking everytime you put a different product on his face. Now you were doing face masks. "This is a hydration face mask." You said simply, standing on your tip-toes to place the sheet mask over his flawless face. His hands unconsciously finding its way to your waist, holding you gently yet protectively. "And what's the one you have on your face?" He asked, mumbling from the face mask, afraid of disturbing you while you're patting it down. "It's the same thing just a different color." You explained, pushing his soft bangs away to smooth the mask down on his forehead. He hummed as he began rubbing your waist up and down, filling your stomach with butterflies. "Now we wait 20 minutes." You said, standing back at your original height. "I have some ideas that can fill those 20 minutes." He smirked down at you as you rolled your eyes, pecking his lips slightly that eventually led to a 20 minute make out session.

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[purinfelix]

didn't you believe in me? ⋆.˚ - franco colapinto

summary: following São Paulo, it's your job to remind Franco that one tough race isn't the end of the world w/c: 800

a/n: just wanted to write a little something following the brazil gp cus i just felt soooo bad for my boy

Ever since your boyfriend became a Formula One driver, there hadn't been many quiet moments in your life. From his excited ramblings as the two of you drove onto paddocks, to the endless chanting of his name from crowds of fans. It was exciting, mostly for him but for you as well, to watch the boy you loved become a man loved by many, many more.

But the drive home from São Paulo had been silent.

It's not like you didn't know why, you had been there the entire weekend - through the crash, his meetings with teams and everything else that had been going on. The crash had been scary for you, and your only care had been whether he was safe or not - but Franco didn't seem to share the same sentiment.

The rest of the afternoon had been tense, you were only able to watch from afar as he struggled through interviews that hounded him with uncomfortable questions. His professionalism through it all impressed you though, maybe his media training lessons were beginning to pay off. Still, you could tell he wasn't enjoying a single second of them from the way he stormed out of the media area and straight past you.

This car ride had been the only time the two of you were alone since the crash. Every so often you would glance over nervously, only to see your boyfriend looking out the window, silently.

"Franco," you say softly, less of a question and more of a call to his attention, but he doesn't give in. He only shakes his head slightly, a silent not right now which you recognise immediately.

You sit back with a soft sigh, though a soft tap on the leathered seat between you draws your attention towards where Franco's outstretched hand lays. Silently, you take it in yours, intertwining your fingers and rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb - it seems to be the most you can do at this moment to comfort him.

After what seems like an eternity, the car stops in front of the hotel where the two of you are staying. Still, in silence, the two of you file out, and head up the elevator to your room. The only noise that fills the space between you is the soft hum of the elevator and the noise your keycard makes when you unlock the door to your shared room.

You let him in first and shut the door softly behind you. The tension that had seemed to follow the two of you home from the paddock finally seemed to dissipate as you watched him kick off his shoes and sit down on the edge of the bed with a huff.

You make your way over to him quietly, wedging yourself to stand in between his legs. He hangs his head with a soft sigh, his hands fiddling at the fabric of your shirt as he pulls you a little closer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you whisper, and he shakes his head.

"Not really," his voice is hoarse and it hurts your heart a little to hear. Still, you bring your hands up to start combing through his hair softly, a motion you know brings him comfort. There's another moment of silence and when you hear him sniff, you almost think he's crying. But he looks up at you, eyes a little watery. "I just really want to do well."

"You will," you say soothingly, "you are doing well." He nods, though you can tell he doesn't seem convinced.

You move your hands down to cup his face, forcing him to look into your eyes. "I mean it." You lean down a little, pressing soft kisses across his forehead. When you stand back up, you feel his arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you towards him, burying his face into your stomach.

"I'm sorry for being an ass to you earlier," he sighs, and you can tell just how much he means it.

"Don't worry about it, I understand."

"And you're still here with me."

"Franco, baby, you're going to have to do a lot worse than that to get rid of me."

He lets out a soft laugh, muffled against the fabric of your shirt but still you feel yourself internally let out a sigh of relief at the sound.

"Thank you," he says softly, "for staying."

"Of course," you reply, intertwining your fingers with his curls once more. The two of you return to silence once more - though now you're relieved by the fact that it's one not out of sadness or anger but comfort, and quite honestly, one you wouldn't mind spending forever in.

taglist: (reply/send me an ask if you'd like to be added!)

@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 11)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/n find out more about their baby while trying to distance themselves from the crime.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 4k+

It'd been a few weeks since the cops chased John B and Sarah out into the storm. They were presumed dead.

People were talking. The rumor that it had actually been Rafe that had killed Peterkin was circling around the island but there was no evidence to prove it. And going after the Cameron's, especially after they'd just lost their daughter, was not a good look.

Even more so, you were showing now. Elliot Y/L/N's daughter was bearing Rafe Cameron's child. Needless to say, you and Rafe had protection.

However, that didn't stop the sideways stares you received attending Sheriff Peterkin's funeral. Or the way Topper and Kelce had slowly distanced themselves from the two of you.

"Did he do it?" Courtney had asked you as you sat across from her in her bed.

You answered with your eyes. You couldn't lie to her. But you couldn't say it out loud.

She nodded. The lack of words exchanged kept her safe. Kept Rafe safe. But she knew. She'd never say a word though. She loved you. She loved Rafe. And she loved the baby that would need both of it's parents.

-

You gripped Rafe's hand tightly as the doctor scanned your ultrasound.

"5 months! Good weight, looking healthy as can be." The doctor says. "Would you like to know the sex?"

You smile widely at his words. You could see Rafe shaking with anticipation. "Yes, please!"

"Well, Miss Y/L/N. People will owe you a lot of money. It's a boy."

You squeal with excitement and you watch as Rafe tries to contain himself, wanting nothing more than to jump around the room and cheer.

You knew from the beginning. You always knew. Call it mother's intuition. Mother. The term felt so real now.

Rafe kneels down beside you, placing kisses all over your swollen belly. You giggle at the sensation.

"I'll give you two a minute." The doctor smiles. "When you're ready, just head to the front desk and schedule your next appointment."

Rafe looked up at you, tears streaming down his cheeks. You laugh but couldn't help the tears spilling from your eyes as well.

"I can't believe this is real." He whispers against your skin. "You still want to name him after me?"

"Of course I do! Wolf's been his name since the beginning. It's who he is. I can tell. I'm his mom." You tease, getting used to referring to yourself as that.

Rafe presses a deep kiss to your lips before trailing the rest of your face with kisses. He'd never been so happy in his life.

-

Rafe gushed about your future the whole ride back to Tannyhill. About the house he was going to buy you, about colors for the nursery, about all the sports he was going to teach Wolf.

You smiled the whole way, admiring the smile on his face at the thought of his son.

When you pulled into the driveway Rafe quickly hopped out to come retrieve you. You chuckled as he pulled you inside, clutching the ultrasound pictures tightly.

"Dad! Rose! Wheeze!" He yelled.

"What's going on?" Wheezie asked, poking her head out of the living room.

"Where's dad and Rose?"

"We're right here," Rose said as her and Ward enter the foyer. "Is everything okay?"

Rafe excitedly passed out the pictures, smile wide on his face. "It's a boy!"

"Oh my God!" Wheezie squealed.

Rafe pulled you to his chest and squeezed you tightly. You were at pure bliss with how happy he was. You hadn't seen him like this in so long.

Ward was still grieving the loss of Sarah but you caught the genuine smile break across his face as he stared at the picture of his soon to be grandson. "Shit," He mumbled, running his fingers over the scruff coating his face. Rafe looked at his father hopefully. "This is-wow. Congratulations, son."

Rafe smiled. "Thanks, dad."

"You guys are gonna be great parents." Rose cooed, pulling you into a hug.

"Do you have any names for him?" Wheezie asked hopefully.

"We do, actually." You say, earning Ward's attention away from the photo in his hands.

Rafe smiles even bigger, you swear he was going to bruise his cheeks with how much he was smiling.

"Rafe-" You begin. "Rafe means Counsel of the Wolves. So we're naming him Wolf. Wolf Cameron."

"What? That's so cool!" Wheezie says. "Holy shit, I'm gonna be an aunt!"

"Language, Wheeze!" Rose scolds.

"Your, uh...your mother named you. I didn't know that was the meaning." Ward said softly, almost disappointed in himself for not knowing that.

"Thought he should have a strong name," You start, wrapping your arms around Rafe's waist and looking up at him. "Like his daddy."

Rafe was an absolute mess of pure bliss.

"Okay, uh..." Rafe says, running his fingers through his hair manically. "I have to take you out tonight. Wherever you want. Whatever you and Wolf are hungry for."

"Oh, let us cook!" Wheezie says. "Please?!"

You glance at her and Rose. They both seemed eager to make a special dinner for the two of you.

Rafe looks at you, eager to know what you want to do. You were beginning to feel overwhelmed.

"Uhm, yeah Wheeze! That sounds good! Italian?" You offer.

"On it!" Wheezie says, running to the kitchen.

"You two go rest." Rose smiles. "Rafe, breathe."

You notice the way Wheezie and Rose pin your ultrasound photos to the fridge. You also notice the way Ward stuffs his in his pocket.

"Uh, Y/N. I have something for you." Ward says as he walks back to his office. You and Rafe follow slowly. Ward picks an envelope off his desk and hands it to you. "From your father."

Your breath hitches. You'd written your dad a while ago to tell him the news but you hadn't heard back. You were at the Cameron's so often you had just sent the letter from there. "Thanks," You say, taking the letter from him warily. You had no idea what your father's reaction would be and you knew Ward would be eager to know.

You and Rafe head up to his room. You still had a few more photos from the ultrasound and you watched as Rafe propped one up on his nightstand, smiling down at it. It made your heart flutter.

You sat on the bed and sighed, staring at the letter. Rafe sat behind you, pulling you into him. The feeling of his arms around you calmed your nerves.

You ran your nail under the envelope to open it. You took a deep breath as you unfolded the letter.

Y/N,

Wow. It's so good to hear from you. Although, that was not the news I was expecting to get. Pregnant. I'll be honest, I went through a range of emotions at first. One of them being the urge to strangle Rafe. But I talked to some of the people here. They are really great. They helped me realize that you are an adult. You won't always be my little girl.

You are so much like your mother, and because of that, I know that you will be a great mother. And I know Rafe will be a great father. I trust he is taking good care of you. I trust that all the Cameron's are. I pray you're staying clean. For yourself and your new little family. I know you can do it. You're strong. You just have to put your strength to use in the right places.

I hate to do it, but I will be staying for a few more months. I miss you and I wish so badly I was there with you, but this experience has really opened my eyes and I just don't feel like I am ready to leave yet. But when I come back I will be a better father and grandfather. I can't tell you how excited I am to meet him or her.

Take care of yourself. I love you. Talk soon.

Dad

You stared at the letter with a lack of emotions. You knew they were there somewhere but you just couldn't bring yourself to feel them. You'd built up a wall. Of course he was staying longer. You weren't surprised. I mean, good for him right? It's what he needs. At least he is happy for you and not grabbing the first flight home to murder Rafe.

You fold the letter up and set it to the side. "You okay?" Rafe asks.

"Mhmm," You say. "I'm really sleepy. Can we nap?"

"Of course, my love."

Rafe gets up and shuts the blinds in his room before crawling back into bed beside you. He wraps his arm around you and tucks his hand under your shirt, trailing his fingers over your belly.

"Shit!" You hiss and grab your stomach.

"What? Are you okay? What happened?!" Rafe asks.

You chuckle. "Nothing, babe, I'm fine. He's just kicking." You reassure him. "Here, feel." You guide Rafe's hand to the spot where a tiny foot was thumping against your inner belly.

"Holy shit," Rafe smiles. "That's our son." His voice was so soft, so absolutely entranced by the movements inside you.

You smile, enjoying the little jolts inside your stomach as Rafe caressed you skin.

-

You woke up around 7pm to Rafe bringing you a plate of chicken alfredo.

"Oh shit," You mutter, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. "I forgot Wheezie and Rose were cooking for us."

"It's okay, baby. I told them you were really tired. We can just eat in here and watch a movie."

You smile, taking the plate from him. You were grateful for their efforts but you don't think you'd be able to make it downstairs without falling asleep.

You lazily ate your food as Jurassic Park played on the tv. You were starving but you could barely keep your eyes open. You managed to finish your food and set your plate on the night stand before pulling yourself out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom.

You peed and chugged a glass of water before stumbling back and collapsing in bed.

"Back to bed, my angel? Did you eat enough?"

"Mhmm," You groan. "Shhh, I go sleep now."

Rafe giggled and placed a kiss on your head, instantly shipping you off to dreamland once again. Pregnancy made you tired.

-

"Rafe,"

Rafe snaps awake to find Ward standing in the dark of his room.

"What? What is it?" He asked sleepily, looking over at you to make sure you were still asleep.

"I need your help." Ward said.

Rafe slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to wake you, and followed his dad outside.

"I need you to keep quiet and stay calm okay?" Ward said.

"Yeah, okay." Rafe responded nervously.

Ward pulled back the cover on the truck to reveal a large bag.

"W-what is that?"

"It's a body, son."

"Oh my God." Rafe says, losing control of his breathing. "Oh my God, it's a body? Whose body is it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter? My girlfriend is upstairs! Whose body is it, dad?!

"It's Gavin!" Ward hisses, slapping his hand over Rafe's mouth.

Rafe pulls back. "Gavin? The pilot? W-why? What'd he do?"

"He was trying to blackmail us. He had the gun that you used to kill Peterkin. I told him to throw it over the ocean on the way to the Bahamas but he didn't. He kept it." Ward explained.

Rafe's eyes were wide with anxiety.

"He was going to turn you in, Rafe. I couldn't let that happen. Not when-" Ward sighs. "Not with Wolf on the way..."

Rafe eyed his father for a moment before glancing back to the body. "He said you were a psychopath, Rafe, and that he wasn't going to jail for you. Now can you please help me carry him to the boat."

Rafe took a deep breath, absorbing all the information. Gavin was a threat. Ward took care of him. Just like Rafe took care of Peterkin. A dead witness meant a safe place for him and his family.

"I got the head." He says.

-

You woke up to an empty space beside you. You frowned, hoping Rafe was just downstairs.

You reached for your phone and scrolled through your messages.

Rafe: Gotta take care of some business. I'll be back later. I love you more than life.

You sighed. You knew it wasn't work related business.

You open the next message.

Courtney: Wanna kick it?

You smile. You needed to get out of the house and do something.

Please. You respond.

You get up and go to Rafe's bathroom, pulling open your drawer where you kept your make up, tampons, moisturizer, and all the other shit you could possibly need when you stay at his house. Although you had your own drawer, lashes and hair ties and glitter still took up most of his bathroom counter.

You get to work on your face, opting for a simple make up look since you and Courtney planned to spend the day getting your nails done and shopping for Wolf.

Here, bitch

You smile, checking yourself in the mirror one more time before heading downstairs.

You hop in Courtney's car and hold up your nails. "Take me to the salon right fucking now. This should be illegal!"

Courtney examined your pink claws in desperate need for a rebase. "Atleast you still have all yours. I'm missing three!"

Courtney backs out of Tannyhill and makes her way to town. "Soooo?" She asks. "How was the doctor yesterday? Did you find out what you're having?!"

You look over at her and smile. "It's a boy."

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Courtney screams. "YAYAYAYAYAY!!!"

"We're naming him Wolf." You smile.

"Oh my God that's so fucking cute!!! Where'd you come up with that?"

"Naming him after Rafe. He's absolutely over the moon."

Courtney beams over at you. "I still can't believe you guys are having a baby. Really never thought I'd see the day you or Rafe Cameron settled down."

"I wouldn't exactly say we're settled." You laugh.

"Where is Rafe anyways?"

You shrug. "Said he was taking care of some business. I don't really want to know to be honest."

Courtney nods and decides not to press it further. The two of you go to the salon. You opt for white toenails to bring out your tan and glittery gold coffin nails for your fingers. You felt like a new person as you walked around town, looking at the cute baby items all the shops had. You couldn't believe you were spending a Saturday shopping for a baby instead of getting fucked up on the beach. But you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yo, is that Rafe and Barry?" Courtney asked suddenly as the two of you made your way down the street.

You look up to see Rafe and Barry fucking with the water system. "What the fuck..." You whisper to yourself before heading towards them. "What are you two doing?"

Rafe and Barry turn to look at you at you and Courtney. "Uuhhhh..."

"You better not try to lie to me right now, Rafe Cameron." You said sternly.

Rafe knew better than to lie. He took your arm and pulled you to the side. "My dad lost the gun..." He stated quietly.

"The one-"

"Yes." He cut you off. "He dropped it down the sewer by accident. We're trying to get it back."

Before you could respond your heard the sound of echoing voices.

"Guys! There's something dead in here!"

You and Rafe walked closer to the sound.

"Is it Gavin?! Do you see the gun?!"

The fucking Pogues.

"They're in the sewer." Rafe states.

"Shit..." You hear Courtney say.

Rafe turns back to Barry. "Flush 'em out."

"You flush that pipe, you gonna kill the rat." Barry warns.

"Yeah." Rafe's voice was confident.

"The last thing you need is more dead bodies showin' up around this bitch."

"If you're gonna be a pussy then you can leave." Rafe says.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bruh?"

You and Courtney watch as Barry and Rafe stare at eachother for a moment.

"Get the hell out of the way." Rafe finally says. Barry does as he's told and leaves. The three of you standing in silence. You glance at Courtney.

"I'll go get the car," She said. "Be ready."

Courtney walks off towards the car and you turn to Rafe. "They all know?"

He bites his lip and nods.

"Okay. Drown 'em." You tell him. You tried not to think about the murderous path you had joined Rafe on, but you needed to protect your family. These Pogues were going to try to take him down and you couldn't let that happen.

Rafe smiles at you and you smile back. He begins turning the wheel and you watch as water begins to bubble out of the manhole. You listen closely for the voices.

"Guys! The water!" You can hear Kiara yell. "Guys, help!!"

You laugh. "Got 'em."

Courtney pulls up quickly and you and Rafe jump in her car. She speeds off towards Figure Eight, leaving the Pogues to drown in the sewer system.

-

You stared out at the moonlight hitting the water while Rafe and Ward talked.

"I looked for it everywhere, I swear to God." Rafe said.

"I know, I know. I'm not mad at you."

"Listen, if those Pogues got the gun we can just say John B stole it, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah I mean he lived at the house." Ward responded. "He's a known thief. Absolutely, yes."

You turn to Rafe. He holds out his arm for you and pulls you close to him. You remained quiet while him and Ward talked. You were as much a part of this now as they both were. There was no way you'd be kept out of the loop and they knew that. Even though you were pregnant, you still possessed all the crazy that Rafe did and now that the two of you were expecting, it fueled your fire even more, ready to do absolutely anything to take care of your baby.

"Listen, guys..." Ward begins. "I have to fly to the Bahamas tomorrow. Will you-will you guys go with me?"

Rafe looks at you and you smile your approval. "Yeah, yes sir."

"Good. It will be good to get you guys out of here. And honestly, I feel like I need someone to have my back."

"I got that. All day." Rafe says.

Ward looks at Rafe with love in his eyes. An expression you barely ever see from him. "You do, don't you?"

Rafe smiles. The smile only you and his dad are able to pull out of him. It makes your heart melt.

"Are you okay to fly?" Ward asks you.

"Yeah. I'll be good." You say with a smile.

"Okay. I'll see you two in the morning."

"You sure you're okay to go, sweet girl?" Rafe asks once his dad disappears down the dock.

You felt your hormones take over suddenly and you couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips.

"Baby girl, what's wrong?!" Rafe asked, pulling you into his chest.

"I just-I just want to be with you." You cry. "All the time. I hate when I'm not with you."

"I'm right here, baby. I'm not going anywhere."

"This is just all so overwhelming, Rafe. I just want you to be okay. I'm so scared."

Rafe kneels down in front of you, holding your hips and placing kisses to your belly. He looks up at you. "I'm okay, baby girl. I'm going to make sure everything is okay. I'm going to take care of you and Wolfie, okay?"

You stare down at him through watery eyes and nod, running your fingers through his hair.

"Nothing will take apart our family. I promise." He tells you.

You smile. He smiles back, standing up and pressing his lips to yours. "Let's go pack, baby."

-

You practically want to kiss the ground when you touch down in Nassau. You were puking the entire plane ride. Rafe holding your hair back over a bucket while Ward flew the plain. You had no morning sickness your entire pregnancy but as soon as you were in the air you could not hold on to your stomach.

Once you got into the truck and rolled the windows down you felt a thousand times better. Ward stopped and picked up some sandwiches which you were grateful for because you had absolutely nothing in your stomach.

When you pulled up to the Cameron's Bahama house you were more than excited to go inside and lay down.

"I'm sorry this trip's been so hard, baby." Rafe says sadly as he helps you out of the car.

"It's okay. I'm just glad we're here." You say, lacing your fingers through his and resting the other hand on your baby bump.

"I didn't just bring you guys here because I need your help." Ward says. "I want to show you guys something."

Ward walks over to the large safe he had built into the wall. "You ready?"

You hold Rafe's hand tightly. "What you got in there? The Hope Diamond?" Rafe chuckles.

Ward smiles and opens the door to the safe. Your jaw drops at the sight. Gold. A lot. Of fucking. Gold.

"Is that real?" Rafe asks.

"Son, that's the realest thing there is." Ward says. He grabs two blocks of gold and hands one to each of you.

You gasp at the weight of it in your hands.

"You found..." Rafe begins. "You found the Royal Merchant?"

"Holy shit," You whispered.

"That's what all this has been about. The shit with John B, his dad, Peterkin. It's what Elliot and I worked out. All this gold, it's ours now. It can't bring your sister back, but it can save us."

"Jesus," Rafe whispers, you look up at him in awe.

"When Agatha hit we were in a financial hole, a deep one. Now we're not."

"How much are we looking at here?" You ask as you eye the gold.

"Half a billion." Ward responds.

You drop the gold to the floor as you turn to look at him. "Half-half a billion?"

Ward chuckles, picking the gold bar up off the ground.

"Oh, my God." Rafe says. "Holy shit!" He skips to the back porch. "Whoo! Haha! Dad what?! How is this even possible, huh?!"

You could feel a tear escape your eye as you laughed. You were set for life. I mean shit, you already were, but now you really were. You and Rafe could get a place of your own, you'd be able to send Wolf to college. The world was literally yours.

"Rafe look at me, look." Ward says, grabbing Rafe's shoulders. "I'm hard on you, Rafe. I'm real hard on you. That day on the tarmac. This is what was on the cargo plane." Ward says, holding up a piece of gold. "You were the only reason we were able to fly that out."

You look over at them, watching Rafe absorb his father's words.

"You, Rafe. Without you, no gold."

You walk over to them, pulling them both into a hug.

"You guys will be set. Wolf will be set for life. We wouldn't have this gold without the two of you." Ward says.

Rafe turns and wraps his arms fully around you, picking you up and twirling you around. Ward smiles at the sight of you two.

You giggle in Rafe's arms, pressing a deep kiss to his lips when he sets you down.

"You two go get some rest. We're flying this out first thing in the morning." Ward says, patting Rafe on the back. "You feeling okay, Y/N?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm great. Thank you for this." You say to Ward.

"Wouldn't have been able to do it without your dad's help." Ward smiles. "Now go. Figure out what school my grandson will be attending."

You chuckle and offer a smile.

"Thanks, dad." Rafe says before grabbing both your bags and heading upstairs, pulling you along with him.

He brings you to his room of the Bahama house. It was gorgeous. Gold assets and a large double door that lead out to a patio facing the ocean. It looked like a hotel room at the Versace mansion.

You and Rafe were all smiles. "We're set, baby." Rafe says as the two of you lay down on his bed. "We're fucking set."

You laugh. You couldn't believe how fucking set you were. "I fucking love you, Rafe."

"Marry me." He says quickly, but meaningfully. As if the question, or the demand, has been in his head forever. "Please. Please, marry me."

You look over at him in shock.

"I will buy you the prettiest ring. I promise. I just want..." He starts, turning towards you and cupping your cheek. "I want you to be my wife."

You place your hand over his and smile. "Of course I'll marry you, Rafe."

That sets off his big ass grin. "Really?"

"Yes. YES!" You say excitedly.

Rafe rolls you over, pressing a harsh kiss to your lips as he hovers over you. "I'm gonna put another baby in you now." He whispers against your lips.

"I don't think it works like that," You giggle.

"I'm gonna try anyways," He says, reaching under your dress and ripping your panties off.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

@outerbankspov @torturedtypewritersdept

[p4p4y4princess]

Every time I go on tiktok, I just get angry. Like I've not mentioned the hate after Brazil as a Lando supporter because I choose to tune it out because I'm unwell myself and can't handle the stress of worrying about a man who doesn't know about me, parasocial relationships aside, I do not know this man but I do know what the women and fem presenting people in the F1 fandom go through.

It's not just the "What's DRS then?" joke. It's the sarcasm and snarky comments on every Lando or Carlos or Charles or Oscar (or anyone really) supporter who happens to be a girl's posts. It's the bullying of TEENAGERS by grown men for finding a celebrity attractive or entertaining. When men lust over the WAGs, when the tabloids reported on drivers groping women in the backs of cars and spraying champagne up grid girls' skirts: it gets continuously brushed under the rug because there will always be the power imbalance and a sexist angle in every aspect of this sport because if a woman opens her mouth about liking a driver, she's ruining the sport but when Ayrton Senna dated a 15 year old girl, he was a hero and a different time.

I think of Rush as a film so often and that Chris Hemsworth as James Hunt said that it's not the driving that gets girls to like the drivers, it's the thrill of it all which I think has some weight to it while misogynistic but there's only so much grace you can give James Hunt in this conversation. We look at drivers of the past and those who have grown with decorum and not acted like a fool whilst in Formula 1 or post retirement as this shining light of movement in the F1 world. Seb Vettel was objectively a little shit when he was at RB and look what a shining example he is now, there's room for change, kindness and learning in a sport like this.

We all get used to this misogyny at times, we take the blows given out for having an interest, we get reminded of our places in society in a patriarchy like F1 and we do it because we want that morsel of respect. We fall to it sometimes, personally I've seen multiple girls and fem presenting people make the joke of "why are we sexualizing the drivers?" "why do you have to make everything weird?" May it be the constant willingness to shrink ourselves into the background and be the ones who don't cause a fuss or make our excitement the loudest but if you are in that either end of that situation, I see you and I hear you. You are allowed to be happy. You are allowed to be as loud and as proud as you want to be about your favourite drivers and teams. Defend that shit with your life if that is your joy, do not let anyone take that from you but understand every action has a reaction and if you have a disdain for your fellow girl, please ask yourself why.

The girls are in the academies, baby girls are growing up in garages and in front of TV's in awe of fast, brightly coloured cars, freshly 18 year old women are becoming motorsports students and interning on go-kart tracks and mechanics. Let's not crush their dreams by letting misogyny no matter how miniscule win.

[skele-bunny]

Thinking about Aether and Dew baby...

This follows Calida's timeline!

CW - Pregnancy, Mentions of past Traumatic Pregnancy (but this is a fluff post!)

It's been a good few years, now. Calida now a rambunctious teenager, the ministry settled down while there's no tours for a good while. It's comfortable! The topic comes up one night, Dew settled in the bed with Aether on their day off together;

"Firefly?"

"Hm?"

"Promise you won't bite me if I ask something?" An eyebrow raise but Dew promises. "How would you feel about another baby?"

"Another?" Dewdrop sits up a little, resting more on the headboard as he grimaces some. "I dunno, Aeth... Calida's was rough as is. I had her early, and all the complications, and just the mental side of it? I'm not sure... Why?"

"Just been thinking, that's all. Maybe something in the air, all the babies I've been helping deliver with the siblings. I dunno either. Just thought, maybe, it would be nice to have tiny feet running through the den again."

Dewdrop just chews his lip and nods, eventually going into silence before going to the bathroom suddenly. Closes the door and stares at himself in the mirror for a bit, so many thoughts racing. He doesn't realize how long it's been until Aether knocks to check on him, Dew opening the door and looking up, holding his breath.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Let's have another. But on my conditions."

"What- Oh, okay! What's your conditions?" Aether can't help his tail wagging.

"We're gonna go talk to my therapist and double, triple, fucking quad check that this isn't just a breeding thing for you... A-and I only want you, or Phil, or- or just that really nice midwife you introduced me to at the Halloween party, Alexa... If... If I get pregnant again. No one else."

Aether just nods, taking Dewdrop's hand, leading him back to bed. "Those are all reasonable. I can call for an appointment in the morning. Sound fair?"

"Yeah... Sounds fair."

It's about two months worth of sessions, both privately and together, making sure that YES. They want this! Dew is mentally ready for this again, Aether isn't in some kink phase, etc. They even talk to Calida who's more than excited about a little sibling! Dewy gets off his testosterone and starts taking supplements, and circles his first heat for them to start trying. They keep everything quiet for a while, and even more months of failed attempts to conceive. It's about month four when Dew wakes Aether up, sitting on his lap with two positive pregnancy tests.

They're SO fucking excited but keep their expectations mellow. Dewdrop's health has much changed since Calida, plus they don't know if the egg will fully stay intact. Still, it is exciting for Aether to smell how fruity Dewdrop is. Constantly scenting him to see if there's any changes but also to cover the smell around the others. Every night Aether has his eyes full of stars and a gentle hand on Dew's stomach, whispering to Dewy what he sees, how small it is, but still so full of fluids and cells.

Two months, they agree to tell the others. It goes as they expect, excitement and extra affection, a ghoul pile that even Copia makes time to join.

"Have you started thinking about names or anything like that?" Sunny is laying her head on Dew's thigh, smiling SO wide.

"No, not just yet. Things can still change so we're waiting at least until near the end of the second trimester."

"Makes sense," Swiss chimes in. "Does Calida know?"

Aether is the one to laugh, leaning over. "That girl scared the birds away from how excited she got. She was the first to know."

Now, Dewdrop wouldn't trade Calida for the world. But he wishes he had this gentleness when he was expecting her. The kindness and a huge pack so that he doesn't have to strain and try to keep up, that he knew early, how accommodating everything's been. There's times he'll just hold his stomach and look in the mirror, so much deja vu of when he did it in hotel bathrooms while on tour. Speaking to Calida and telling her she was going to be the light of his life, and now he's doing it again. Just another piece for a puzzle he didn't know wasn't completed yet.

He's put on bed rest once more, too many high risks going on, and he starts eventually experiencing... Symptoms.

"What do you mean they're weird?"

"They're just fucking weird, Aether! Just, okay, tickle me."

He blinks. "You hate being tickled."

"I know! Just do it!"

He shrugs and does a little wiggle of his fingers before attacking Dew's sides and armpits. Listening to him squeal and laugh, grimacing and eventually - the TV turns on. Aether is staring at it while Dew catches his breath.

"See? Weird fucking shit! If I sneeze the lights turn on and off, when I get headaches my phone's battery dies, and like... It's so strange!"

Aether whistles a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh we're so having a quint."

"Huh?"

Aether looks him dead in the eyes, but a big goofy smile. "You're having magick surges. Little bit is reacting to you, and quintessence is a hell of a thing. Starts while still in the womb, my mother in the pit had almost the same things happening. Less technology and more of like, levitation. We're having a quint!"

Dew blinks before breaking into cries. "Woah, woah! What's wrong, my love?"

"I'm gonna look like a fucking watermelon you ass-wipe!" Hitting him softly but still crying.

Poor thing isn't even six months yet, but he looks like he's eight! Mumbling about his feet hurting, his legs more swollen than normal, cravings that are insanity to even be thought of. It's when he's in the nursery, tying ribbons on the crib when he gasps at a feeling, holding his stomach... It happens again.

He doesn't even get the full trill out before Cumulus and Mountain are RAMMING into that door.

"What's wrong?!"

But, he's smiling, beckoning them over. Takes both of their hands and puts it on his bump, shushing them every time they try to ask. There's a kick and their eyes go wide, Dew just as much. It's much softer than normal kicks, but that's to be expected from the egg sack still around them.

Then, finally, a gender reveal. Expecting a tiny little girl, Aether excited as he's always been a girl dad, adjusting some of the things in the nursery to match her.

"Teddy."

"Hm?"

Dew is playing with a tiny onesie, keeping his eyes locked on it. "What do you think of the name Starshine?"

"Starshine?"

"Yeah," his thumb going over the embroidered star on the onesie. "For our daughter."

Aether hums, thinking it over a little before he nods. "Yeah... Yeah, I like that."

He makes it to full term, after an agonizing day and a half of his water being broken and no dilation. Clutching to Aether and Mountain, Alexa between his knees to help course their daughter out. Mountain's fur is sticking up from the amount of electricity from Dew holding him, then with how hot he is. There's a bit of a power surge at the final push before the lights come back. Dewdrop sobbing as he dead weights against the two, staring at the ceiling but ears completely focused on Starshine's mad cries as she's cut from the sack.

Good god they though Mountain was furry? That poor girl is gonna need haircuts WEEKLY. Aether and Dew laughing a bit as they're holding this purple blob of fur, some soft white on her belly and in her ears. Hair blonde, just like Dewdrop's.

Mountain congratulating them and helping Alexa clean up a little while the new parents again bask in the afterglow with their new daughter :3

[ftmtf-doll]

Want my friends and family to be concerned when we announce that I'm pregnant. I've always been so adamant that it would never happen to me, my dysphoria being too strong. You'll laugh and say it was an accident, wrapping your arm possessively around my shoulder and saying that I'm keeping it.

No one says anything as my body slowly feminizes, not wanting to make me feel bad about having to go off testosterone for the baby. They're all pretty sure it's more than just pregnancy hormones, it's almost like I'm deliberately trying to look more feminine. But I seem happy enough, so no one mentions it when my hair starts growing long and start shaving all my body hair off

It doesn't help that you're always by my side, talking about how excited we both are to be parents, how wonderfully the pregnancy is going. We get a couple concerned looks whenever you call me the mom-to-be, but I just smile and laugh so it must be fine, right? Surely we talked about this and I'm OK with it

Soon enough I'm wearing exclusively maternity dresses, more often than not low cut ones that show off my breasts which have grown significantly with the pregnancy. We just couldn't find anything else that fit, you explain to our friends who don't fully believe you, but i don't seem too bothered by it so they let it go. Soon some of them start slipping up, accidentally misgendering me. It's an honest mistake every time, its just that well... I really don't look like a man anymore. You laugh and say it's ok whenever they apologize, saying that I'm used to it since strangers see a pregnant person and automatically assume they're a woman.

It's right before the baby comes that you start posting a bunch of cutesy couple photos showing off my warped body, all using my dead name and calling me she/her. Everyone sees it, and everyone talks about it. Some saying they can't believe this, that I'd always seemed so happy as a man. Others saying they'd seen it coming in how I acted over my pregnancy. Some are concerned, worrying if this is really what I want, but surely I would say something if I didn't want this so they leave it be

It's after the baby comes that I officially tell people I'm no longer a man. Well, you tell people for me. I'm just soo busy with the baby and recovery, after all. And if I seem stressed or upset, it's just me getting used to motherhood. Totally not because of anything else

Little do they know, you poked holes in the condom to get me pregnant all with the goal of turning me into your perfect wife. I never wanted any of this, never wanted to be a woman, but you slowly but surely wore me down and changed my body forever. Convinced all our friends that this is what i wanted, that it was my choice. How could I ever explain to everyone that my perfect loving doting partner tricked me, forced this upon me? No one would ever believe me

You're already planning on putting the next baby in me

[noparadiseinthis]

English is not my first language. Bear with me, Grammarly helps, but it doesn't work miracles

Part 1: Birds fly in different directions

Spencer Reid/Gideon's daughter!Reader

Masterlist here

Warnings: Father's death. It is pure sadness (but cute, too). You and Spencer have children. Maybe not as much Spence as you'd like. A very brief mention of suicide in a teen joke.

The "●●●" marks the shift between past and present.

Summary: When your husband Spencer woke up to a phone call in the middle of the night, you were sure it would be another case. You never expected it to be Agent Hotchner telling you that your father's body had been found.

When you were born, Stephen was 3 years old and your father was finding it increasingly difficult to balance family time with work. With a new baby in the mix, he was always tired. He had a way of compartmentalizing and not thinking about his family when he was working, but the opposite wasn't true. What he did most was blame himself and spend sleepless nights, his mind wandering between the horrors he saw in the cases and his wife, alone to look after you and your brother. That's why, every time you woke up crying in your crib, he would immediately stand up, as if he had predicted the exact time.

When he was at home, he tried to take as much weight off Jill's shoulders as possible, which included taking you into the kitchen every night, your face nestled in his neck while he hummed to you and prepared your bottle after checking to see if your diaper needed changing. Most nights, he'd manage to calm you down or take you downstairs before waking his wife, but when that didn't happen, he'd just kiss Jill and tell her to go back to sleep because he had everything under control.

"There's a Starman waiting in the sky, he's told us not to blow it 'cause he knows it's all worthwhile." he would sing/whisper in your ear during those nights, always the same song.

You were enchanted by his voice, your small hand rubbing the stubble on his face as you listened in silence so as not to miss anything, although sometimes you would let out a few small strangled sounds, far from being any recognizable words. He just laughed as quietly as he could and smiled excitedly in your direction.

"That's right, love. Soon we'll be a duet."

On this particular evening, he held you against his chest as he waltzed around the kitchen with you, singing "he told me: let the children lose it, let the children use it, let all the children boogie" to the sound of your loud laughter.

"So that's what you do when you tell me to go to bed?" The woman's voice echoed through the kitchen, causing Jason to turn abruptly, facing his laughing wife who was holding a video camera.

"Huh, excuse me?" He mumbled, looking embarrassed, as if he'd been caught committing a crime.

You looked like you were about to cry when your dance was interrupted, but then you spotted your mother and started shouting and waving your arms, calling her close.

"Please don't interrupt the show because of me," Jill said with a laugh. "How is she going to sleep after all this excitement, Jason?"

"Watch and learn, darling." He smiled openly, something almost feral in his expression as he deftly held you in one arm and tested the temperature of the bottle with the other. "I always manage."

●●●

The sharp sound of Spencer's phone ringing in the middle of the night easily lulled you out of sleep. Your husband would probably have some explanation about how this was evolution, conditioning women to wake up faster to high-pitched sounds like a baby crying.

"Spencer, pick that up," you muttered with a certain irritation, lightly shaking his shoulder.

Spencer sighed as he groped around with his eyes closed on the bedside table, trying to find his cell phone.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He whispered.

You understood why. He always apologized before going out on a case.

●●●

The ringing of the phone echoed in the peaceful kitchen in the middle of the night. The recording was interrupted as Jason closed his eyes and sighed, knowing that only one person would call him this late.

"David Rossi knows how to have terrible timing." Jill commented, failing to hide her frustration.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He whispered, looking from you to your mother, thinking of Stephen sleeping upstairs. "I'm not going."

"They need you, I understand. Just answer it." She said before leaving the kitchen.

Jason tried to ignore your confused and sleepy face as he answered the phone with an "I hope you're calling me for a drink."

On the other end of the line, Rossi snorted, "I wish. New case."

●●●

"New case?" Spencer mumbled into the phone, his voice moaning with sleep.

"Not the way you're thinking." Hotch replied, his voice tense. "Is your wife with you?"

●●●

"Give her to me and I'll put her to sleep." Jill offered, approaching her husband as he entered the living room.

"No, I... I did that." He couldn't explain why some days were harder than others, they just were.

●●●

Spencer made some strange friends in his youth. He remembers Max, one of his tutorial students at Caltech who is playing sloppily in the library chair before muttering that "some days it's better to kill yourself in bed as soon as the alarm goes off". At the time, his only response was a snorting laugh. He had never fully understood that feeling until now.

You didn't pay much attention to his conversation on the phone, but you were surprised to realize that several minutes had passed and he still hadn't gotten up to go to work. You scratched your eyes, sitting up in bed.

"Spence?"

When he looked at you, your heart squeezed. Your husband looked as if he was about to burst into tears.

●●●

"Who's the most beautiful girl in the world? That's right, it's you, baby." Jason cooed to you in the crib, delighted and frightened by the way you were now holding your bottle all by yourself. "I wanted you to be my baby forever".

With you, he tried not to think about the details of Dave's case over the phone, but his stupid brain couldn't help it. He didn't deserve a family like that. "I hope you don't hate me in the future," he whispered, his voice just a little shaky.

Once again, his singing voice put you to sleep. "Well, the clock says it's closing time, I think I'd better go now. I'd really like to stay here all night."

He kissed Stephen and Jill before leaving and these memories stayed with him through the long hours of the car journey.

"Is everything all right?" Dave asked, taking the wheel so that Gideon could get some rest.

"Sometimes they're harder to leave than others." He said, looking out of the window as he bit his lip to stop the wave of sadness.

"I imagine it is."

Three years ago, they were the same, young marrieds excited about impending fatherhood, glances exchanged between them during cases because only one could understand the other's fear that one day their families might be the victims. Now, Jason felt as if they belonged to completely different worlds.

There were walls between them, both always avoiding mention of their son's death and Rossi's subsequent divorce. Maybe that's where they went wrong; the fact is that's how they began to distance themselves, and Jason began to forget what it was like to have someone other than his wife with whom he could confide his fears without feeling guilty.

David would never judge him, but he judged himself every time he thought about venting about how Stephen was starting to test his parents' limits more and more, and then he remembered that Rossi's son would be the same age as him, and his friend would probably give anything to deal with a child's tantrum. For the rest of their lives, they were birds flying in different directions.

●●●

"Spence, what's wrong?" you asked a little startled, getting down on your knees on the bed.

He just hugged you tightly and sobbed, crying for what seemed like hours into your sweater. Wishing you could take all the pain away from his chest, you cradled him lovingly, stroking his hair and waiting for him to calm down enough to tell you what had happened.

"H-Hotch said... Hotch said..." he finally began, pulling away from your embrace so that he could look into your face. "That the police found a body."

Once again, your husband had to stop to collect himself, and you wiped away his tears in anguish and confusion.

"In your father's hut. They think it's him."

Your world stopped. And all the words seemed to fly away. No. No. No. It was some mistake. It had to be. Spencer had to force himself out of his state of anguish when he saw how you went into shock.

"Tell me it's a lie." You whispered, your voice so shaky and vulnerable that it was like a stab in his chest. You didn't wait for an answer before collapsing.

You thought of the video on your cell phone, the one whose tape you'd digitized when your father left it in the cabin before he left. That video seemed like a world ago, a world where he cradled you to his chest and sang David Bowie to you. You hardly realized you were crying. You wanted to have been his baby forever. You hated growing up.

The recording ended with the landline ringing in the early hours. You never needed your mother to explain what had happened. The alarm went off and he left. Like so many times. Like now. Forever.

"Listen to my voice, angel. Breathe with me, please."

Oh yes. You're a grown woman now, you can't be daddy's baby, as much as you'd like to be. You have babies of your own, sleeping just a few doors down.

"Why, Spencer?" You seemed to break down, crying harder than he'd ever seen you in his life.

He called you two days ago. He asked how his grandchildren were. He wanted to talk to Spencer, who was away on a case. He said he loved you. He said he'd visit for Christmas. You'd fallen asleep while he was reciting to you the names of all the birds on the West Coast. Why did you fall asleep?

●●●

As heavy-minded as he always was after a stressful case, Jason walked through town to clear his head before hitting the road to return to his family. He spotted a small toy store, with some stuffed birds in the window. He didn't even know they were made.

Almost as if he were a marionette, he was impelled to enter. There were an impressive number of species, but he knew which one was perfect as soon as he laid eyes on it. A robin. He left the store with a few dollars less and one more plush than when he entered, but it was worth it. He would spend his entire salary on toys if it made you happy.

[A/N]: This was started as soon as I finished the episode on Gideon's death today. Such a beautiful and sad episode. Every detail of it brought me to tears. It turned out that this first part was more a tribute to him than anything else. It was supposed to be a much longer one-shot, but this small part was already emotionally draining to write, so I decided to take a break and finish the rest as soon as possible. I have lots of ideas for more angst. I don't know if I liked the result very much, but I hope you had fun reading it.

The songs that Gideon sings to Reader are:

● Starman - David Bowie

● Soul Kitchen - The Doors

The title is from "Birds - Imagine Dragons"

[reverie-starlight]

gn!reader, no physical descriptions but the fic states that reader doesn't drink often/is inexperienced with it and that they're a bit of a lightweight. the "very giggly but refuses to accept that they're inebriated" type of tipsy that's interesting to experience for the first time. fluff fluff fluff. also this should go without saying, but everyone including reader is over the legal drinking age.

I meant to post this back in august/september but never got around to finishing it. might as well do it now while I'm clearing out drafts!!

it's a bit of a rare sight to see you like this.

you don't drink often- a glass here or there when you're in the comfort of your apartment, or out at a restaurant with friends, but you're adamant about not going past that without some level of planning for it.

but tonight seems to be unfolding a bit differently than you anticipated. (he, however, saw this coming the second you got excited over how good your drink tasted and downed it on a nearly empty stomach.)

"I told you to eat something before we left," he said with a bit of a sing-songy tone. quite truthfully, he's never seen you this close to being drunk before and he's thoroughly amused with your behaviour.

you roll your eyes and lean back against your chair, watching your friend and her boyfriend on the dancefloor. "I'm not even drunk, baby, I barely had anything to drink. besides, she said she didn't like her drink and she offered me some!"

he snorts. the “barely anythings” in question were a lot stronger than you expected them to be. and it's true, your friend asked you to drink half of hers on top of your own so she wouldn't be forced to drink it all- apparently you were the only one at the table who actually enjoyed the taste of it.

the only issue is that the base of the drink was a type of juice he knows for a fact that you hate.

you would get tipsy trying to help out a friend, he thinks fondly.

his heart warms at your generosity, and also at the way you're now staring up at the ceiling with an analytical look on your face, like you're trying to solve a difficult math problem.

"y'know, I'm actually so fine," you seem to conclude.

he chokes on his soda, trying not to laugh at you. "yeah? so you could walk from here to the wall without stumbling even once, no issues?"

you try to match his gaze, but you see his raised eyebrow and dissolve into a fit of giggles, leaning forward to rest your head on the table. you've been doing that a lot tonight. you suddenly sit up straight, very serious look on your face. "okay, but to be fair, am I ever able to do that?"

he shakes his head with a slight smile. "okay, fair enough."

you frown and press your palm to your head. "ughhh, why am I so dizzy?" you whine. "it won't go away."

he quickly leans over and steals a few french fries from your friend's nearly empty plate, feeding them to you slowly. having a full belly doesn’t seem to be helping your state, but it’s the first thing he thinks of. "you wanna know what I think?"

you nod and rest your head against his shoulder.

"I think you're definitely not sober, sweetheart. despite what you're saying."

you look up at him with narrowed eyes. "fine... maybe just a bit... can we go home now?"

he thinks that's the most logical thing you've said since finishing dinner.

your friend must see him helping you stand up and grabbing your coat, because she quickly steps off the dance floor to assess the situation. "hey, are you guys leaving?"

your boyfriend nods. "yeah, I think I'd better get them home."

she takes in how you're leaning against him, eyes shut in an attempt to stop the temporary vertigo, and shares an amused look with your pillar before hugging you both goodbye. "get home safe, you two. call me if you need anything!" and then she's back on the dancefloor, her boyfriend waving from where he's stood.

"alright, baby, let's go."

you nod and try to lead the way, before reaching out behind you with a small "oh."

he's steadying you in an instant and making sure you're okay.

"c-can I just hold onto you until we get to the car?" you ask sheepishly.

he snorts and crouches down a bit to pick you up. You're definitely able to walk with his support, but quite honestly, he'd use any excuse to have you in his arms. "I wouldn't let you walk on your own right now even if you insisted."

you direct a dreamy sigh towards him. "you're so good to me, baby."

he's thankful you're more focused on the city's nightlife with a dazed expression than the pink blooming on his face.

ATSUMU, kuroo, kirishima, geto, isagi, akaashi

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

yippee for rushed endings!!! I definitely had more planned for this fic but I can't remember exactly what those plans were LOL

i got tipsy/mildly drunk on vacation for the first time and it got me thinking about who'd be best at handling you while you’re inebriated. this is just a silly little fic *partially* based on true events. "I'm actually so fine" might've been my most repeated phrase of the evening. (I was in fact not fine)

[fisheito]

yakuya in MY swamp? in MY ecosystem? no . i am still in disbelief. i hope you all know that my particles are bouncing off the everything. i am using periods as punctuation but the state of my mind is naught neareth final.

[the-lark-ascending69]

Lumity is very cute but it seems like the kind of ship that would have a fandom so toxic it'd make you dislike the ship in time and I think that's sad.

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt. 9)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Rafe and Y/n share the exciting news. But trouble is always right around the corner...

Warnings: Language, smut, pregnancy

Word Count: 4.7k+

You couldn't believe you waited this long to get help. You felt so happy. You were taking it easy, spending your time with Rafe and only Rafe. You knew you needed to talk to Topper and Kelce. Thank them and apologize. But for now, you just wanted to be with your love.

Rafe made you breakfast every morning. He made sure you took your meds and he re-bandaged your wrist every day. Every time he saw the stitches holding your skin together he frowned, but he'd swallow his feelings and remind himself that you're still here with him. Alive and happy.

"What color did you pick?" You giggle as he brushes eyeshadow onto your lids. He wanted to do your make up and you let him. Laying in his lap on the bathroom floor as he picked through three drawers of make up, not knowing what a single product is. You explained each item to him and he was fully invested in doing his best work.

"Purple," He replies. "I love purple on you."

You smile, keeping your eyes closed as he works. You relax at the feeling of the brushes moving across your skin.

You peak up at him as he works on gluing green rhinestones to your face. He was fully concentrated on what he was doing and it was the cutest thing you'd ever seen.

"Done!" He finally says. You jump up in excitement and look in the mirror.

"Holy shit, Rafe," You say, examining your face. "This looks amazing!" The emerald green rhinestones complimented the dark purple shimmer perfectly. Your cheeks were the perfect shade of pink, and a dark brown gloss on your lips tied it all together. He even contoured your face perfectly.

Rafe blushes. "You look beautiful," He says, pulling you to him and kissing your temple.

You turn to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and staring up at him. "I've had such a nice time the last few days. Thank you."

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, savoring the cute smile that sat on your face. "I love being with you. I'm so happy you're home with me."

Rafe's phone rings, ruining the moment. He sighs.

You laugh, "Answer it, babe. I gotta put on setting spray so we don't lose this masterpiece." You wave around your face.

He smiles and reaches for his phone.

"Hello?"

You listen to Rafe talk as you spray your face, locking his artwork in place.

"I dunno, dude...I'll ask her." Rafe turns to look at you. "Do you want to go get lunch at the club? It's okay if not."

"Who's asking?

"Court, Kelce, and Top."

You smile. You've been holed up in your house since you got out of the hospital. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Rafe smiles at you. Happy you're ready to go out. "Yeah, we'll be there soon." He says into his phone before hanging up.

"You sure you're ready to go out, baby?" Rafe asks, wrapping his hands around your stomach.

Your breath hitches slightly. You still haven't told him. But the feeling of his hands over the life growing inside you makes you melt.

"Yeah, I need to see them." You say. "I need to apologize."

"No you don't, baby."

"I do, Rafe. I've put you guys through hell and it's not okay. I'm so so grateful to have you guys in my life but you guys don't deserve to witness what I've put you through."

You could see the water in Rafe's eyes as he looked away. He choked back his tears and pressed his lips to yours.

Rafe leads you outside, helping you into his truck. You smile as he drives towards the club. It was a beautiful day and you were with the person you loved most. The feeling of being sober was like a whole new high.

You started to get a little nervous when you saw Courtney, Topper, and Kelce standing outside the club.

Rafe reached for your hand after parking. "You sure you're okay?"

You nod and he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your skin so softly you can barely feel him.

Rafe comes around and helps you out of his truck. He clung to your hand tightly as you approached your friends.

"Y/N!" Courtney squeals, running over to you and wrapping her arms around you.

"Hey, bitch!" You chuckle.

"Have you told him?" She whispers in your ear.

"Not yet," You respond. "Tonight."

Courtney pulls back from you and smiles as she takes you in. You're starting to look like your old self again.

"How are you feeling?" Topper asks as he approaches you, holding his arms out.

"I'm doing good, Top!" You say as you hug him tightly.

Kelce comes to you next, wrapping you in a hug. "You look amazing." He says.

"That's cuz of Rafe. He did my glam today," You chuckle as you motion to your make up.

"Shit, Rafe! You have skills!" Courtney says.

Rafe blushes and pulls you to his side.

You all head inside and make your way out to the deck. Rafe pulls your chair out for you and you sit right between him and Courtney.

JJ comes up to take your order but you couldn't be bothered, you were feeling too happy being with your friends again.

Kelce and Topper order Mai Tai's. You Rafe and Courtney order water.

"Completely clean now?" Kelce asks you.

"Taking a break from the alcohol and drugs. Focusing on what's important." You say, glancing at Rafe. He smiled back at you, fiddling with his ear.

Courtney tries to hide a smirk, her being the only one that knows your little secret.

JJ brings your drinks back and you all order food. Topper and Kelce giving him attitude as usual.

When he walks off you take your opportunity. "So listen," You begin. "I just wanted to first of all thank you guys for being there for me during a really hard time. You guys have saved my life on multiple occasions and I can't tell you how grateful I am for that."

"We're always here for you." Topper says. You can feel Rafe's fingers trail over your skin as he listens to you.

"I also want to say sorry. I'm so sorry I've put you guys through this trauma."

"Y/N-" Kelce begins.

You raise a hand to him and cut him off. "You guys shouldn't have had to see all that. I'm so grateful for all of you and I'm so sorry. I'm going to do better." You promise.

Rafe tightens his grip on you. Courtney looks semi-sad but grateful for your apology. Topper and Kelce smile at you.

"We're here for you no matter what," Topper says. "We're just really glad you're okay."

You smile at them, thankful to have them in your life.

JJ brings your food out and the rest of lunch consists of you all eating and joking around. You were laughing harder than you have in months. You fully enjoyed experiencing you friendships sober.

You hold Rafe and Courtney's hands as you walk out of the club.

"You guys wanna go to a party tonight?" Kelce asks when you're all outside.

You cling tightly to Rafe, hoping he knows how to respond.

"No, I think we're gonna stay in tonight," He says, rubbing your back.

"You guys have stayed in all week," Topper groans.

"Next time, Top." You promise. "Rafe and I have business to attend to."

Kelce makes gagging sounds, earning a laugh from Courtney. Topper just rolls his eyes.

You turn to Courtney and hug her tightly. "Let me know how it goes," She whispers to you.

You nod with a smile before giving Topper and Kelce their hugs. You wave goodbye as you and Rafe walk back to his truck.

Once you're both inside, Rafe looks over at you with a goofy grin.

"What?" You giggle.

"I just love you so much."

"I love you right back!" You smile, giving him a kiss. "Take me home. I wasn't joking about that business." You wiggle your eyebrows at him.

Rafe bites his lip and smiles. Fully ready to spend the rest of the day inside of you.

"Wanna take a bath?" You ask as you both climb out of the truck.

"Absolutely I do," He says with a shit-eating grin. You can't help but smile back at him.

Rafe follows you up the stairs, unable to keep his hands off you. You head to the bathroom and turn on the water in your giant tub. You add lavender bubbles and some bath salts. God knows you can't take a bath without them.

"Can you make some tea, baby?" You ask Rafe.

"Of course, my love." He replies, giving you a quick kiss and running downstairs.

You walk over to your bathroom speakers, hooking your phone up to bluetooth. You throw on Lund before stripping out of your clothes.

You step into the bathtub and let the water run over your skin as you lay back. You took a few deep breaths, knowing you had to tell Rafe about the baby. You were terrified.

"Here you go, my love." Rafe says as he sets a mug of tea down beside you.

"Thanks, baby,"

Rafe rids himself of his clothes and steps into the bath with you, sitting across from you. You grab his hand under the water and smile at him.

"So pretty," He gushes over you.

"You're pretty," You say, causing him to blush. Your favorite sight.

He pulls you too him and you swim over happily, straddling his lap. His hands move to your ass, rubbing over your skin hungrily. "How can I make you feel good, pretty girl?" He asks, placing kisses on your collar bone.

"You can do whatever you want to me in a minute, baby. First I have to talk to you about something."

Rafe leans back. Worry taking over his features. "What do you want to talk about, angel?"

You sigh and bite your lip. "Rafe...do you...do you ever want like-like a family?" You ask him.

"Only with you." He says without hesitation.

You take his hand and guide it to your stomach. Pressing it against your skin as you hold your hand over his.

He looks up at you with a puzzled expression.

"I'm pregnant, baby." You tell him softly unsure of how he'll react. "They told me in the hospital. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I was just so scared."

Rafe gripped your belly tighter. "You're pregnant?"

"Mhmm," You nod, biting your lip nervously.

"Like...like you're pregnant? Like...we are having a baby?" He asks.

"Uhm, yeah...if you want to." You tell him.

He snakes his hand around the back of your neck and pulls your lips to his, kissing you with more passion than he ever has before.

When you finally pull away to take a breath tears were falling from his eyes.

"We're having a baby!" He says excitedly, rubbing his hand over your stomach. "I can't believe it!"

You smiled, relaxing at the fact that he was so excited about it.

"My angel, you get more perfect every day. And now you're giving me a baby. I love you so fucking much." He says, beaming up at you.

You couldn't help but cry at his reaction. You had no words. You were ecstatic that he was excited about your baby.

You could feel him hard underneath you and you quickly bucked your hips up, grabbing his cock and lining it up at your entrance before sinking down onto him.

"Fuuuuck," He moans as he clings to your hips, resting his head against your chest as he helps you move up and down on his cock.

"You're going to be such a good dad," You tell him as he slides in and out of you.

"Say that again," He groans.

You lean down and whisper in his ear. "Such a good daddy, Rafe Cameron."

"I'll do anything for you and our baby, mama." He says, thrusting into you deeper.

"Fuck me from behind," You demand.

Rafe pulls you off of him and stands up, bringing you with him. He bends you over the side of the bathtub and thrusts into you again, holding you tightly to make sure you don't fall.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, loving the new angle of his cock thrusting in to you. He brings his hand around and rubs circles on your clit and you can feel yourself growing close.

"Pretty girl, anything you want, I'll give it to you. So amazing. Carrying our baby." He praises as he thrusts into you roughly. "You're everything I've ever dreamed of."

You reach your high, vibrating around his cock. "Fuck, Rafe!" You whine. He thrusts a few more times, exploding inside you.

"You're so fucking addicting," he pants as as he rests on your back.

"You make me feel so fucking good, Rafe." You mutter as you try to catch your breath.

"Come here, sweet angel." He says as he steps out of the tub and helps you out. "You need to rest."

Rafe helps you dry off and carries you to your bed. He lays beside you, running one hand through your hair while the other cups your stomach. You didn't have a baby bump yet but you both felt the little life growing inside you.

"I can't wait to meet our baby," Rafe whispers, nuzzling into your skin.

"I keep dreaming about him. He's gonna be a boy."

Rafe smiles up at you. "Any name ideas?"

You ponder for a moment and smile. "Do you know the meaning of your name, Rafe?"

"I do not," He admits.

"It means Wise Wolf. Or Counsel of the Wolf."

Rafe contemplates for a moment. "That's actually pretty cool."

You turn to face him. "So if it is a boy, like I think it is, let's name him Wolf."

Rafe smiles at you. "After me?"

"Of course. He'll be so strong and amazing just like his father." You praise.

Rafe blushes and bites his lip. "I like Wolf."

You smile at him as he runs his fingers through your hair. "We're gonna be parents,"

"Thank you," Rafe starts. "Thank you so much for choosing me."

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"You chose me. To be your boyfriend. To take your virginity. And now you're choosing to have a family with me. I won't let you down. I won't let Wolf down."

You smile. "You're the best decision I've ever made."

-

You fiddle with dress, unhappy with the way it sat on your body. You had just gotten back from your doctors appointment. Two and a half months pregnant. How the hell had you been pregnant this long and not noticed?

The doctor told you everything was fine. That you were healthy and so was your child. But you couldn't help but cry at the fact that you put so many toxins into your body while your baby was growing inside you. You didn't know, but you would never forgive yourself for it.

"You look absolutely amazing." Rafe said as he entered your bathroom, snaking his arms around your torso and brushing his thumb over your belly. "Mama," He adds, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"I'm nervous, Rafe." You admit.

"I am too. But we have to tell them. We can't hide it forever."

Only Rafe and Courtney knew you were pregnant. Rafe didn't love the fact that Courtney found out before him, however, he understood. But today, today was the day you'd be telling his family.

You wore a white sun dress, white strappy wedges to match. Despite your heels, Rafe still towered over you.

"You ready, angel? We gotta get there before guests start arriving."

The Cameron's were having a barbecue. All the Kooks on the island were invited of course. You and Rafe decided this would be the best time to tell them because if they ended up being pissed, the guests arriving would have them distracted enough for the two of you to sneak off.

Your stomach was doing flips as you pulled into Tannyhill. You had no idea how Ward and Rose would react to this news. You glanced over at Rafe, noticing he was equally nervous.

"We're really doing this," You state, taking a deep breath.

"Yep," Rafe responds. "I think I'm gonna puke."

"Me too," You say.

Just then, Wheezie walks out front and spots you guys sitting in the truck. She throws her arms up as if to ask you guys why you're just sitting there. She motions for you to come inside.

"Guess that's our cue." You say with a shaky breath.

Rafe swallows before hopping out of the truck and coming over to help you out. He wraps his hand around your waist as you walk slowly towards the entrance.

"Why are you guys being so weird?" Wheezie asks.

"We're not, Wheeze." Rafe says, clinging to you tightly.

You all enter the house. You swear you were going to vomit in the foyer. When you enter the kitchen, Rose and Ward greet you excitedly. Sarah and John B sit at the island and scoff.

You ignore them. Clinging to Rafe as your nerves rise.

Ward and Rose both notice the RC that sat healed on your chest as well as the bandage that remained on your wrist. They swallowed their thoughts and forced a smile. They knew everything that had recently happened, Rafe coming home crying about it. It took hours for Rose and Ward to calm him down. But that was not to be discussed today.

"Are you two ready for tonight? We always love doing an end of summer barbecue." Rose says.

"We are. We actually wanted to talk to you guys first." Rafe says, swallowing his fear.

Wheezie looks up, focusing on you and Rafe now as she tucks her phone in her back pocket. Sarah and John B turn their attention to you as well.

"About what, son?" Ward asks, slight concern coating his features.

You were praying the earth would open and swallow you up. Anxiety taking over your body as you let Rafe take control of the situation.

"Uhm, Y/N and I..." Rafe begins. "We, uhm..."

All eyes were on you and you just wanted it out in the open.

"I'm pregnant," You blurt out before you could stop yourself.

"Uhm, yeah. That..." Rafe says, awkwardly placing his hand on your stomach.

Everyone's eyes were wide, completely surprised by this information.

Ward sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was angry. The fact that his son impregnated Elliot Y/L/N's daughter. He could kiss that business deal goodbye.

John B and Sarah just stared at the two of you, wondering how the fuck you two psychos were going to be parents.

"Congratulations!" Wheezie broke out, running to give you a hug.

"Thanks, Wheeze!" You tell her. "We're really, really excited."

Your words seem to pull Ward from his disapproving demeanor. "Does your father know?" He asks you.

"Not yet. I'm going to write him."

Ward sighs again. "Rafe you-"

"Are going to be an amazing father." You cut Ward off, holding on tightly to Rafe and staring daggers at his father.

Ward cowered under your gaze. He had no idea what to think. He knew he needed to protect you and keep you safe while Elliot was away. But he was scared shitless of how Elliot would react to the news of his son getting you pregnant. He would find any reason to be disappointed in Rafe and you were going to put an end to that.

You stood up proudly, placing your hand over Rafe's on your stomach. From the second you found out you were pregnant, you were happy. Rafe is the only person you could picture having a life with and you felt honored to be carrying his child inside your body.

"Congratulations," Rose finally said, rounding the island pulling you both into a hug. "I can't wait to meet the little one." She gushes.

Ward shakes off any negative thoughts. He pulls you in for a hug and you accept hesitantly. "Congratulations, son." He says, pulling Rafe into a hug.

You smile, seeing how happy Rafe is at his dad's gesture.

"You guys seriously support this?" Sarah scoffs. "These two...psychopaths having a kid?"

"Shut your fucking mouth, Sarah." Rafe hisses.

"I'm sorry I just think it's a little weird that two people who cut each other up and drink each others blood should be allowed to have kids."

You step forward but Rafe quickly pulls you back. "You're lucky I'm pregnant." You spit. You were going to have to get used to this. Not fighting.

"Sarah, stop!" Ward scolds her. "Either be happy for your brother or don't say anything at all."

Sarah scoffs. "Congratulations, fucking vampires." She says before pulling John B out of the room.

You swallow your anger and lean into Rafe. He holds you tightly, bringing a hand up to play with your hair.

"I apologize for her." Ward says. His face was still riddled with concern. But he was going to keep his mouth shut since you seemed to be so happy. It wasn't like you and Rafe couldn't afford a child. But Sarah was also right, you were crazy. But crazy in love and loyal to your pack. You'd protect Rafe and your baby at all costs.

People begin to knock on the door and Rose is quick to answer, inviting people inside and leading them out back.

Rafe sits you down at the kitchen table. "Let me get you some water, mama." He says.

You smile as he hands you a glass of water. "Should we tell Kelce and Top tonight?" You ask.

"If you're ready, baby girl." He responds, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You smile and nod. "I am. I'm so happy."

Rafe smiles, your words making him melt. All he wants to do is make you happy. He's never felt good enough, especially in his fathers eyes. He swore to himself he'd never make his child feel that way.

"Let's go get you something to eat, pretty girl." He says, helping you up and guiding you to the back yard.

He fixes you a plate of food before guiding you to one of the tables by the pool. "Here, baby, eat," He says, offering you some cheese and crackers.

"I'm not that hungry, babe." You tell him.

"Gotta eat, baby." He insists. "For you and Wolfy."

You smile at the nickname, accepting the food he's holding for you.

"You guys seriously make me gag," Topper says as him, Kelce, and Courtney approach where you're sitting, making themselves comfortable in the rest of the chairs at the table.

"Good to see you too," You chuckle.

"You okay?" Kelce asks, noticing your hand on your stomach.

"Yeah! I'm great! We actually uh...we have some news." You say with a smile.

Topper and Kelce look confused, glancing back and forth between you and Rafe. Courtney tried to hide her knowing smile.

You look at Rafe, urging him to be the one to tell them since you so lovingly did so for his parents.

"We're having a baby," Rafe says, smile wide on his face.

Topper chokes on his drink. You giggle as he attempts to catch his breath.

"You? You two are having a baby?" Kelce asks, jaw dropped as Courtney attempts to help Topper regain his breath.

"Mhmm," You nod. "I'm two and a half months. I had no idea..." You say, a tinge of sadness in your voice.

Rafe places a comforting hand on your leg. "We saw the doctor today and everything is going great!" He smiles down at you, reminding you that your baby is perfectly healthy.

"Holy shit, that's amazing!" Kelce says, lunging towards you and wrapping you in a hug before he does the same with Rafe.

"Congratulations!" Topper finally coughed out.

Courtney came around and hugged you from behind. "I'm so happy for you, Sunflower!" She squealed, kissing your cheek. "And you too, Rafey!" She says, wrapping her arms around his chest and kissing his cheek as well.

You and Rafe were nothing but smiles. Happy that everyone was being so supportive. Atleast, almost everyone.

You could feel Sarah and John B's eyes on you. They were whispering to eachother on the other side of the yard.

Rafe noticed you frown and looked over to see what you were staring at. His jaw tightened, absolutely sick of Sarah's shit. "Wait here," He said, placing a quick kiss on your head.

He stood up and made his way over to Sarah and John B. "What's your problem, Sarah?" He hissed.

John B stepped in front of her protectively.

"Why don't you ever just mind your own business?" Rafe continued.

"It's not my fault you and your psycho girlfriend got pregnant. You're 19, Rafe!"

"Yeah, and you're 16 running around with Pogues and robbing drug dealers!"

Sarah scrunched up her face at him.

"Just stay out of my business and keep your mouth shut around Y/N. Or I'll tell dad all about your little adventures."

"Like he'd believe you? You're the one that was buying coke from Barry!"

Rafe sucked on his bottom lip. Irritation present in his expression. "I'm clean now. Mind your business, Sarah." He said before walking off back towards you and his friends.

-

You brushed your hair, pinning at back slightly as you stared at the mirror in Rafe's bathroom. You could hear him and Wheezie talking in the hall. Rafe sounded upset.

"I know like a thousand times more about the business than she does!"

"I don't know, Rafe! Rose just wanted me to tell you."

"Hm," You hear Rafe grumble before he walks back into his room.

"Everything okay, baby?" You ask him. He was sitting on his bed, head in his hands, obviously pissed off. "Hey, look at me." You say, bringing his chin up to meet your gaze.

Rafe leans into you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You cradle his head and play with his hair as you hug him silently.

"I gotta take care of some stuff," He mumbles.

"Do you want me to come?"

He shakes his head. "No. You stay here. Rest. I just gotta talk to my dad."

"Isn't he going to the Bahamas with Sarah? What's going on, Rafe?"

"Baby, please. Please just stay here. Watch a movie or something." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. He grabs his credit card and hands it you. "Order some food. I'll be back soon, I promise."

You look at him hesitantly but you nod in agreement. Ward was always a touchy subject with Rafe and you didn't want to push it.

He presses a kiss to your lips and then one to your stomach before hurrying out of his room.

You tried to rest, nap, watch tv, nothing was helping you relax. You were so confused by Rafe's behavior earlier. You hadn't heard from him in a couple hours and you were starting to worry.

When will you be home? I miss you. Please be safe.

You pressed send and sighed. You walk downstairs and head towards the front door, ready to get some fresh air.

"Hey Rose," You greet.

"Hey! How are you feeling?" She asks as she sprays the hose over her flowers she works so hard on.

"I'm okay. I haven't had like morning sickness or anything. I hope the baby is this easy when he gets here."

Rose laughs. Rafe was a wild child so I imagine you two will have your hands full.

You smile halfheartedly. "He was acting so weird earlier."

"I haven't seen him today. Maybe he's just a little overwhelmed? I imagine you both are."

"Yeah I guess so. It still doesn't really feel real."

"It will. Once you start showing." She says with a smile.

Before you could say anything else, Rafe's truck was pulling into the driveway.

He got out, panic evident in his eyes.

"Rafe?" You ask as you stand up.

You see Sarah climb out of the passenger side and make her way around. She looked like absolute hell and you noticed blood on her shirt and hands.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you on the plane?" Rose asked her.

"Ask Rafe." She scoffs before storming off into the house.

Rafe looks like he's on the verge of tears. "I-I need to talk to you." He says, his voice cracking.

"What is it?"

"Not here." Rafe grabs you wrist and drags you into the house. Not angrily but forceful enough to concern you.

"Rafe what's going on?!" You ask as you finally enter his room, shutting the door behind him.

He begins pacing back and forth, hyperventilating as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Fuck, fuck..." He muttered to himself.

"Baby, calm down!" You yell, wrapping your arms around him.

Rafe falls to the floor, pulling you down with him as he sobs into your neck. You'd seen him have panic attacks before but never like this. He grips you so tightly, as if he let go you'd simply evaporate.

"Sweet boy," You begin, feeling yourself begin to cry as you run your hand over his back.

"I-I did something really b-bad." He lets out between sobs.

"What did you do, baby? Whatever it is we can fix it. I'm sure."

Rafe shook his head. "I-I can't lose you."

"You're not going to lose me baby, I'm right here. I'd never leave you!" You try to reassure him. "Just tell me what happened so we can figure it out, together. Always together."

Rafe sat up and looked at you, chest heaving, tears running down his face as he tried to control his breathing.

"I shot Peterkin."

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! :)

@outerbankspov @torturedtypewritersdept

[sherlock-is-ace]

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[subskz]

…i lost the tag limit war

the reader changing the subject the instant she feels seen by minho is such a subtle but valuable hint that i think says a lot abt the type of person she is, that moment really stood out to me! i know i literally just said this but right down to every minute detail, you've characterized both lino and the reader so masterfully it has to be the most enjoyable aspect of this story for me...and on top of that i just love how you write their conversations so much, they’re both such lil nerds…my intellectually stimulating smarties debating w each other even now 🥰 it all feels so comfortable and natural and draws me into their relationship w such ease!

their discussion abt colors is hands down one of my favorite scenes in all of invisible thread!! it's such an oddly heartwarming conversation and that perfect, out-of-the-box way of thinking that’s just so undeniably minho...it almost reminds me of synesthesia how he describes feelings through color! "the very essence of our humanity" "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean" the way you embodied each colors through emotions/experiences was so wonderfully done, i understood each one instantly like it was a picture being visualized before my eyes. it makes it even more touching that minho and the reader come to understand each other on a whole new level through that way of communicating their moods <3 and for some reason when he gives the example "i feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to" that really tugged at my heartstrings ㅠ it almost feels like he isnt just giving a hypothetical there, like he's giving a small glimpse into his true feelings without saying it outright. maybe he feels invisible deep down, too

them falling asleep together on facetime was so soft and tender ㅠㅠ leave it to lino to ramble abt sous-vide as a bedtime story and complain abt getting SCAMMED lmao the way that is actually smth he would say 😭 "he closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on" this line got me so good ): it seems at first that he's bringing the reader peace but she's bringing him peace in her own way as well...her feelings abt his eyes changing from fear to longing is such a lovely detail and HER COMPLIMENTING THEM!!! HIS STUNNED REACTION </3 "this is the first genuine compliment he's ever received" oh my god does my moss green theory actually have any merit.....does he really feel invisible to the world too...do not do this to me sahar ㅠㅠ but the way he thinks such lovely, adoring things abt the reader in that moment but instead of voicing them he whines abt being hungry....so endearing and so HIM i cant get enough of how youve written minho here ur singlehandedly reminding me why he is allegedly the love of my life

the kintsugi mention made my heart leap in my chest!!! "when you look at that vase, you know it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty" please...that sentence in itself is so moving when you apply it to the context of what the reader has been through her whole life, not just a single crack but repeated breakages. and for it to come from someone like minho; it feels like exactly what the reader needs to hear to truly begin to heal herself...he doesn't coddle her but is still so gentle, putting things into perspective like nobody else can w his unique worldview and mental strength ㅠㅠ and i think i just lost my mind realizing that this scene loops right back to the clay comparison you drew at the beginning of the story oh my GOD....the reader is like a clay pot molded by her mother, broken in places and repaired over and over to create smth still damaged but just as valuable...and lino is the gold filling in the cracks....sahar you are INSANE for this one im kissing ur brain and tucking it gently into bed

the scene w minho in the rain 😞 i was not prepared to see my meow meow upset...but i love the way you wrote it so much. how oddly quiet he is, even to the point where he's not commenting in class or teasing her, and that's the key detail that lets the reader know smth's off w him...i also love that nothing in particular caused his low mood. it's such a human quality, and he allows himself to be human and feel his feelings until they pass. "he knew his emotions would regulate themselves" i cant explain why this line stood out to me so much i really love it, i think it's just such a shining example of minho's mindset...not necessarily optimistic, but practical enough to not be completely swamped by the darkness either. it creates such an interesting contrast to the reader's personality to see how they both handle their emotions, w her pushing hers away and him letting them run their course. but the fact that he typically tries to retreat into himself until he feels better, yet strangely enough, he doesn't mind it as much as he'd expect when the reader catches him in a vulnerable state...my babies ㅠ i also really loved the part where he uses her shower and thinks abt the scent of her soap as he washes up, it's so so sweet n intimate i'm such a sucker for things like that ): there are so many small things minho notices abt her like it's the most natural thing in the world, they're both so attentive of one another

"you were both just trying to make it through the day" and "he knew he wasn't invisible. at least not to you" were critical hits to my heart...it feels like a breakthrough in their relationship—the first time the reader truly truly sees minho, all sides of him, and she accepts them all without question <3

the gradual progression of their friendship is so gratifying to read bc of how organically you made it all flow together!! i adore the entire sequence that shows us how they start to care for each other more and more…the casual intimacy of the reader applying her lip tint to his lips (and him not studying for his quiz on purpose 😭💗 come ON) lino worrying abt her eating enough, the reader tying his bangs out of his eyes, complimenting him so matter-of-factly, and him BLUSHING ALL OVER THE PLACE it’s so over for me x2 they are so tender in their actions even when they tease each other nonstop. it all leads up so perfectly to the point in the story where minho finds himself being drawn to her apartment without even realizing it when he doesn't feel well. the subtle shift from him initially trying to shut her out bc he's so used to managing his bad days on his own, to him eventually leaning in to her kindness and seeking her company instead...and the way she just understands what he needs immediately, allows him to sit in silence and simply exist in peace next to her. describing his mood as "too much of every color" really struck a chord w me as well...i'm just so so in love w the running theme of colors you included throughout this story, it's such a brilliant way to put emotions into words <3

the lil parallels here n there from the beginning of their relationship until now are so cute as well; how lino makes breakfast for her the first time and leaves before she wakes up, but this time, he promises to stay and eat with her...to not be invisible ㅠㅠ i think what's making me craziest of all is how they're both so hyperaware of each other's touch. like when their shoulders brushed while sharing the reader's umbrella, how the reader suddenly finds it difficult to concentrate on her book when lino holds her wrist as she shields him from the sunlight...and little does she know it's the exact same for him too, like when she rested her head on his thigh and all he could focus on was the sensation of her hair tickling him 😭 they are so enamored w each other and have become so tangled up in each other little by little...they don't even fully realize it yet but they've made a permanent place in each other's lives now

"you were already on the other side, you realize. his eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey" oh my GOD!!! ㅠㅠㅠㅠ her feelings abt minho's eyes changing from fear, to longing, to at last the comfort of getting to see the other side of those black holes...this line hit me like a truck it might be my favorite from the entire fic ㅠ i have a feeling i'll be saying that abt many more lines to come when you verbalize things in the most poetic ways imaginable heheh but this one truly got me so good, the delicacy in which you describe minho makes the reader's growing affection for him all the more heart-fluttering~

minho hesitating to wipe her tears )): the way he's so careful abt touching her in any unwarranted way bc he can sense that she shies away from skinship is so devastatingly sweet...and then him pinching her right after to make her stop crying NEVERMIND I CANT STAND HIM ACTUALLY. but the way he consoles her is so endearing and so so minho...very simple and sincere, he knows her well enough to immediately figure out the best way to take her mind off of the issue instead of dwelling on it. "you didn't care what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it" i've already pointed out so many lines oh my god i'm so sorry but each one is like another arrow through my heart ㅠㅠ i feel like this sentence is such a perfect testament to the reader and lino's relationship; they've both seen each other at their best and worst and it doesn't change anything abt their feelings, they care for each other unconditionally 😞 also the reader being afraid of physical touch bc she craves it is SO heartbreaking but so raw...i think it aligns so well w her past bc she's so used to either being invisible, or only being perceived negatively when she is perceived. it makes perfect sense how terrifying she'd find it to bare herself to minho when her whole life she's been deprived of genuine affection...you've really done such a phenomenal job of characterizing both her and lino i cant say it enough!

now...the entire final scene...where do i even begin...i had a feeling the climax of the story was going to hurt but not like this ㅠㅠ the reader's inner turmoil as she debates reaching out to her mother again, that conflicting mix of hating her yet somehow still missing her...it's such an inexplicable and confusing feeling for ppl who have experienced that kind of neglect but so so real and you captured it so candidly. it really added a whole new layer to the reader's humanity, for her to be unable to completely let go of their relationship no matter how painful it is to hold on to...for her to cling to the hope that maybe she could be worth smth to her mother if she did everything right ): i genuinely had the exact same reaction as her when you revealed that her mother had deleted her phone number...it felt precisely like a bucket of ice cold water to the head. the reader trying to pinpoint the exact moment in time where her mother stopped loving her was what really crushed me most...what a heart-wrenching sentence ㅠㅠ the fact that she's tried to hard to find solace in other places and people and tried to grow into her own person after entering university, but even so, those marks left from her childhood are still there...a vase full of cracks 💔 as much as it hurts to read, i love that you included this bump in the road of her healing journey and made a point to highlight that healing isn't linear

and minho 😭😭😭😭😭 the way he handled the reader's outburst is so touching...the way he's immediately able to recognize that her feelings are misplaced and smth much deeper is going on beyond what he sees on the surface...using that astuteness to put his own feelings to the side in the moment is so minho. this entire scene is just blossoming with powerful lines i can't forget, but i was especially affected by the reader saying "i'd need you and i can't afford to need someone else." it's such a tragic summarization of her in my opinion...how she went her whole life being unable to rely on anyone but herself, so the moment she's faced w minho, all her instincts say to reject it no matter how badly she craves that intimacy ㅠㅠ and lino saying "i'll be by your side for as long as you'll have me" is such a beautiful declaration of love...it's so selfless and unconditional, and it fits so seamlessly w how their relationship progressed throughout the story, how they were by each other's sides at their best and worst moments.

"the world doesn't stop because we need it to" "we'll make it stop" and then describing their kiss as like "seeing color for the first time"...i'm going to melt into an inconsolable puddle over all these callbacks to their first date together don't think i didn't catch the ways you weaved those in throughout this final scene..you made it feel so complete, like things have come full circle. i already mentioned how much i loved their conversation abt describing colors to the blind, so for their first kiss to be written that way, like the reader was blind to the true color of the world until she met minho....i am going to be ill that is so intensely romantic sahar ㅠㅠㅠㅠ

"he was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together." another heartaching line ): what a way to personify the quiet love minho provides...it may be invisible to everyone else, but not to her

i'm so sorry for my horrifically long comment haha but i'm just thrilled i was finally able to read this beautiful fic 😞 just as i'd predicted, you're a phenomenal writer!! the amount of love and effort you poured into it went above and beyond, i hope you're so proud of yourself for creating such a stunning work!! it's very clear to me how every interaction you wrote between minho and the reader was so carefully thought out and so meaningful to the overarching theme of the story, it's all done with care and purpose and there's smth special to be found in each line of dialogue! it's like you carefully stacked more and more on to the foundation of their bond until before we know it, there's an entire home there that they built steadily together. that kind of subtle progression is my absolute favorite thing. i'm also so blown away by how the reader's mother, though never actually making an appearance until the final scene, has such an heavy impact over the narrative. it's like she's a ghost haunting the reader's every action, every decision, every inner thought...i find it so impressive how you were able to incorporate that effect into the story without us even needing to meet the mother! and i must've mentioned countless lines that stuck w me throughout the fic, but just know that there are countless more i could've pointed out as well...you truly write so so beautifully. so poetic and emotive, but also not so flowery that it becomes hard to follow, i'm truly floored by your ability to achieve that perfect balance! on top of the story being so immersive in itself, your writing style made invisible thread such a genuine delight to read <3

this feels like the kind of story i'll be thinking abt for a long time after finishing it, the kind to revisit over n over bc i'm sure there are so many lil easter eggs you included that i may have missed! i'm positive i'll come back to it many times in the future hehe...but i can't wait to read more of your writing as well! ^_^

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[pricesprincess]

part two here

you tell your new group of friends you made at work about your ex-husband and what to expect when he drops off your daughter.

who is a carbon copy of her dad and a daddy's girl all the way. "he's broody and doesn't say much but does everything for simone."

you were excited to finally see her after a weekend away from her, the two days were silent. "that's him?" one asked with a slack jaw.

she looked at you as did the other women whom you ignored as simone wiggled free from her dad's arms to run over to the front desk thankfully the waiting room was empty for her to do so.

simon stood in the back with a pink, purple, and green bag hanging from his fist as he watched his daughter snuggle up to you so closely. he felt his heart flutter like it does each time this happens.

though you've been pushing for a divorce he refused to sign the papers and you were tired of fighting him. "hi baby girl, did you have a good time with daddy?" you asked tucking a piece of hair behind her ear with a soft smile and kisses that you peppered on her forehead.

"i did! daddy got me a new doll and took me out for ice cream! i also got to hang out with uncle soap!" she giggled and glanced at her dad who came closer giving you the bag with a silent gaze.

the women behind you watched with a curious glaze in their eyes as simon looked at you like there wasn't a separation between you both. "i'm sure soap loved that, you're very much loved honey bug."

simone grinned and greeted your coworkers with a wave before turning to run back to simon letting him scoop her up in a tight hug. he dreaded this with a passion. "i'll see you later princess." he sighed.

you serving him papers still left a hole in his heart and this only widens it each time he had to tell you both goodbye. "okay daddy i'll call you tonight! i love you!" she murmured and hugged his neck.

coming closer you took simone from simon and looked at him. "we can talk tonight." you promised giving him hope that the spark could come back.

comments and relogs with tags are really appreciated <3